Now the Earth with many flowers puts on her spring embroidery
Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.
Once again love drives me on, that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done.
Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.
The evening star Is the most beautiful of all stars
When I look on you a moment, then I can speak no more, but my tongue falls silent, and at once a delicate flame courses beneath my skin, and with my eyes I see nothing, and my ears hum, and a wet sweat bathes me and a trembling seizes me all over.